


We Don't Talk About It

by cupidty11



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Meteorstuck, Misogyny, Other, Past Child Abuse, Quadrant Confusion, Retcon Timeline, Slurs, Some slurs, also really suggest Stolen Dance by Milky Chance because holy fuck?, and mentions of self harm, its got, listing shit, this is mostly lots of just me having feelings about these guys, um so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 02:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7490253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidty11/pseuds/cupidty11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From then on, he’d felt like Bro was looking over his shoulder everywhere he went. Judging him on a scale from one to gay and everything he did was wrong. Creamer in his coffee, wrong. Sitting with his legs crossed, wrong. Letting Kanaya paint his nails, wrong. Refusing to strife anymore, wrong. Feeling his heart speed up in his chest whenever he heard Karkat’s voice, wrong, wrong, wrong. But, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. It felt like freedom and joy only to have it sink in his stomach like lead when he could feel an icy stare behind ironic shades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Don't Talk About It

**Author's Note:**

> hi, this is my first homestuck fic despite being a fucking HS nerd for many years now. I was always a bit intimidated by writing these characters because they're so complex and this is a really cheaty way of doing this because I'm avoiding dialogue. but, I've just had really strong feelings for them recently with the addition of a lovely song called Stolen Dance by Milky Chance which is really great for them I think.
> 
> also please forgive me if the POV/person jumps around, this is, as i said, a really cheaty way of doing it and its kind of silly.

A LIST OF THINGS THAT DAVE AND KARKAT TALKED ABOUT:

  * Shitty romance novels which Karkat insisted weren’t shitty in any way, thank you very much you nooksniffing asshole. They tore through his collection of novels within the first year and spent the rest of the trip, trying to alchemize more, laughing with each new monstrosity they created.  
  

  * Shitty movies of both the human and troll variety. They could spend hours hashing out the goods and bads, most of it bad. The cultural differences seemed especially important when determining which ones were extra awful. Dave found the rom coms about the quadrants to be confusing and when he got confused he could be a bit insufferable. Karkat tried to teach him and it wasn’t until the middle of the second year that he actually seemed to listen with anything besides repulsion.    
  

  * Can town, its well being, the can-citizens (‘canizens’, Dave said with a blank face, only his twitching lips revealing how humorous he found it. What a fucking dork). Can Town quickly grew over the course of their journey from a tiny village that could hardly be called a town into a sprawling metropolis complete with everything from a movie theater to a arcade. It was rather silly how invested they both became in the ridiculous pastime of caring for an imaginary city. But, it was kind of cathartic. Just sitting and pouring over blueprints, drawing and painting, stacking and cursing when someone’s clumsiness inevitably brought something tumbling.   
  
Under the Mayor’s watchful gaze, Can Town became a safe spot. People just tended to gravitate there whenever they were suffering a particularly strong bout of...bad. Bad dreams, bad feelings, bad thoughts...the Mayor couldn’t make it disappear but he sure as fuck made things feel a bit better and he always made people feel important. The Mayor was the fucking best.  
  

  * Earth and Alternia. They compared and contrasted, laying on the meteor’s roof or in some hole somewhere in the depths, or on someone’s bed and just talked for hours and hours about red or blue skies. The hot nights and heavy traffic that made sleeping impossible, the near deadly silence of Alternian days when Karkat couldn’t sleep. They talked about places that didn’t feel like home anymore, if it ever really had in the first place until someone’s voice grew hoarse from talking so much or from reluctant tears.   
  
At first, they both would politely ignore it when that happend. Hiding your weaknesses was something they’d both been taught from the time they could speak. But, eventually it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to just cough and look away. Someone reached out first. Someone with a light touch and soft words and it was so...wrong and so right that it happened time and time again until when hoarse voices happened, tears soon followed. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of they told each other until eventually they began to believe it.  
  

  * Music, mostly Dave’s music. He had so much of it. A vast collection of everything from plucky country music to thrash metal to children’s show theme songs. It was all absurd and Karkat disliked most of it. Dave showed him the music he made himself, practically shoving it into his friend’s ears. At first, it was hard to understand and Karkat made no attempt to hide his confusion. The brutal honesty between them was what made things between them so entertaining.   
  
But, as he listened to more of it, patterns emerged and sometimes Dave’s lyrics would kind of make sense. It was all carefully crafted and absolutely bizarre and so creative that it made Karkat feel a bit pathetic. He’d never created anything in his life, simply pulling words and sounds from his fingers and mouth, something new and colorful and so Dave. Dave who seemed to recognize this, somehow, someway and offered to teach him how to mix.  
  
The discs were strangers under his fingers and his movements unsure. But, he had always been a fast learner and more than that, he was probably the most stubborn creature in the universe. They made music together and it was incredible, hearing it back again and knowing they had created something that had no purpose. Nothing to help in the game, no ulterior motives, no life or death, nothing from an alchemizer. Nothing but their hands and their voices. Karkat listened to it on repeat for months.  
  

  * They talked about their friends, dead and alive. About John’s goofy, good nature and Sollux’s double nature that was incredibly infuriating and also endearing at the same time because of course it was. They talked about Jade’s  ingeniousness and her guardian/lusus and Kanaya’s kindness, her concern for everyone around her. They gossiped about Rose and Kanaya’s relationship which was very obviously now a Thing, complete with hand holding, subtle looks, kissing and jovial laughter.   
  
Karkat watched Dave’s face as he expressed concern for his sister and her drinking. It was hard to understand but, at the same time it reminded him of Gamzee.    
  

  * Karkat’s blood color continued to be a sore subject but, Dave genuinely found the hemospectrum to be confusing bullshit and although Karkat was gratified by that his hands still shook when he talked about it. About hiding in the crawlspace his lusus had made when Imperial drones flew overhead, about learning to control his blushing, covering himself up so that no vein showed, doing everything in his power to avoid injury except for those nights when weakness won out and he would hurt himself to try and get the sludge out of his veins.  
  
He talked about his fear, even around his friends, knowing that if they knew who he really was that they would surely turn him in or worse, hate him. He whispered into the darkness that surrounded the two of them about how he was pretty sure that his mutation extended further than his blood color. That it was in everything he was. His incompetence as a leader, his uncontrollable emotions, his inability to fight...Dave was silent for a while after that and Karkat nearly left, convinced suddenly that he had made Dave think he was weak and not worthy of being friends with.  
  
But, the human’s deep voice whispered back about how none of that made him weak. That Dave wished he couldn’t fight, that he could express his emotions as easily as Karkat did and that being a leader was fucking hard and that Karkat couldn’t control every single variable that happened between 11 people who all happened to be kind of homicidal assholes. Dave breathed that he admired him, thought he was probably the most awesome person he’d ever met before. Karkat didn’t know if Dave was serious but, it made his heart beat fast in his ears and stupid tears come to his eyes easily as they had his whole life. Other people, his friends had said similar things but, never with as much honesty in their voices, never had another person’s opinion of him meant so much.  
  

  * They talked about how earth had all these preconceived notions of what it meant to be a man and how women were kind of perceived as weaker despite literally being the reason for life. They talked about how Trolls were ‘bisexual’ although they didn’t even really have words for it. It was just natural. When life was short and violent, you found love where you could. Some trolls did have some preferences but it didn’t really have a name, like Kanaya who had only ever been interested in girls but she was just Kanaya.  
  
Dave talked about how on earth there were a thousand labels for that kind of stuff. But, how on tv and movies all he’d ever seen was ‘heterosexual’, straight relationships. And it kind of made it feel like that was what ‘normal’ was and anything else was wrong. Dave didn’t say how his bro had also made certain to leap on anything even remotely gay and make fun of it until it seemed like a big joke. He talked about how John and him used to joke about it all the time. And it was funny at the time and sometimes still was but...it just seemed so stupid now. Now that earth was dead, now that all the people who would even care about that kind of shit were dead.  
  

  * Dave slowly opened up. He jumped less at touching, smiled more, gained weight until his skinny frame had softened. It made him look so much healthier, so much more vibrant and energized. The dark circles under his eyes were gone along with the obvious ridges of his spine and shoulder blades. Karkat told him that he looked much better this way, less pathetic, less like a walking skeleton. It made Dave laugh but, there was something underlying there that Karkat couldn’t put his finger on.  
  
(It arose whenever Vriska insisted on strifing, weekly. Karkat would watch Dave, the subtle forehead line that meant a wince whenever metal hit metal, the hesitance in his actions. And despite that he still won each time. Karkat would stand next to him afterwards, noting how badly he shook, noting how carefully he had replaced easy smiles and ridiculous humor with his old mask, dry words. He’d disappear for days in which Karkat tried not to worry, feeling terrible about watching movies or reading or anything really without him because they had spent so much fucking time together that without Dave around everything seemed listless and lifeless and boring and Karkat was so worried. )  
  
It arose whenever the conversation turned to Earth, to Texas, to his bro. It came up when words like puppets or ‘cool’ was thrown around. Something different in Dave's entire demeanor. A stiffness in his shoulders, a uneasiness in his smile, twitchiness in his fingers. Karkat made sure to be careful with all of this. He was an asshole but,not that KIND of asshole.  
  

  * They both hated the sight of blood.  
  


* * *

  
  
THINGS DAVE AND KARKAT DIDN’T TALK ABOUT:  
  
  

  * The murder of Karkat’s friends by a certain clown who was currently confined somewhere in the depths of the meteor. The same meteor where the massacre had taken place. He didn’t say how he still had nightmares about finding bodies, about rainbow blood and eyeless ghosts accusing him of getting them killed. He didn’t say how the color purple filled him with rage, how darkness made him feel like the walls were surrounding him and he had no exit and that he was next.  
  

  * They didn't talk about how after strifeing with Vriska, Dave would sit in his room for days, thinking. He didn’t understand WHY his hands shook, why his mind felt so sluggish and everything was so distant. Why he felt like Bro was suddenly going to jump out of his closet or break down the door and order him to stop being a pussy and get the fuck up. For days afterwards he would wake up, swearing that he was in his old room, thin sheets, distant traffic, whir of a fan and crackling tension in the air. He used to think it was so cool. All the weapons in the kitchen, the puppets everywhere, sex toys and cameras. All part of some incredible ironic game that was supposed to teach him.  
  
But, the more time he spent on the meteor, around people like Karkat and Rose and Kanaya...and the Mayor, of course the Mayor!, the more he felt like...maybe...it had been...not OK. Because comparing actual food in the kitchen, people who cared about him, smiles and laughter and conversation that weren’t loaded with double meanings and sharp edges...it made everything else before it seem like unbearable torture. It took nearly all three years of their trip before he could finally put it together, why he was so angry, so confused and fucked up.  
  

  * They didn’t talk about how close the two of them had gotten. Of course, they were best fucking friends. That much was obvious to anyone with a brain. Their friendship had been surprisingly easy after the initial awkwardness about Terezi. Their conversations ebbed and flowed into each other, their sense of humor matched up perfectly, their different personalities challenged and completed each other. They worked well together, when they weren’t goofing off and giggling like wigglers. They were obvious about their friendship and made no secret of it.  
  
No, the thing they didn’t talk about was how they sat so close together, during movies, during mixing, whenever they were alone. Arms pressed together, warm and soft despite having plenty of space for them to sit. They didn’t talk about how touching had gone from scary and weird to being not only normal, but comforting between the two of them. Hands brushing when they walked, hugs and high fives and hair rustling. Leaning on each other when they needed it the most.  
  

  * They didn’t talk about Karkat’s internal panic. He liked Dave. He liked Dave a whole fucking lot.  
  
So much it was actually kind of painful. And when he realized it, self hatred had risen up from the grave and choked him. There were so many reasons why it couldn’t, wouldn’t work. Dave was his best friend. He couldn’t ruin that, a steady friendship that made him happy on some stupid chance at filling a quadrant. Dave didn’t even DO quadrants. Let alone with a guy. He’d made that clear. He wasn’t gay, wasn’t a homosexual, was straight, liked ‘chicks’, would probably be nauseated to hear Karkat’s internal monologue about how beautiful he was...  
  
And even if none of that was any kind of obstacle, Karkat wasn’t even sure what quadrant Dave would fit in. It didn’t feel like it had with Terezi. Where it flipped back and forth from red to black. This was...a fucking mess. Maybe it was because he was human but, most of the time it was so pale. It had been pale for a long while, talking about their deepest thoughts, clutching at each other for comfort in the darkness.  
  
And it had also been a bit black. Maybe also for a long time. It was just so easy to be annoyed by Dave, challenged by him. They went back and forth, arguing and wrestling and ribbing at each other. It never got violent, it didn’t need to be. Their battles were fought vocally and whoever won was the one who didn’t storm off, or concede. It was fun and so fucking irritating and he loved it.  
  
But, ever increasingly it was red. A blushing, disastrous mess of red. Dave was in his every thought, waking and dreaming. He was so precious to him, so perfectly imperfect. His laughter made Karkat’s blood pumper beat, his voice sent shivers down his spine, his smile was enough to make his knees weak and the whole room ten degrees hotter. Sometime he swore it was all happening at once. It made him dizzy with affection, with quadrant whiplash.  
  
And even if he stopped being a wriggler and they managed to work through all of that...then what? They didn’t have much time. Less than two years. The new session would mean war and people died in wars. Karkat had no illusion he would survive. He wasn’t a pajama wearing asshole. If one of the bad guys so much as farted in his direction he’d be toast. And despite the pajamas, Dave had a chance at kicking the bucket too. Plenty of opportunities for a heroic death. The thought made his chest clench. Karkat kept quiet about his feelings. And it was torture.  
  

  * Dave had what Rose referred to as a ‘gay panic’. She’d experienced the same thing, she’d said when she’d first met Kanaya. There had been so many new feelings, rising up in your chest from your stomach until it made your heart want to explode with desire. He said it sounded like bad gas. She chastised him. Earth was dead. The things that earth taught us, about how it was bad, about going to hell, about being wrong or disgusting was all dead.  
  
Dave had come to Rose when it had been too much to even look at Karkat. His eyes kept falling to his lips, scanning his face for emotions and feeling so satisfied when they were there in full force. A sickly bubbling feeling in his middle when he managed to make him smile or laugh. The satisfaction Dave got from being so close, feeling the warmth radiate off of his best friend. He counted the seconds until they hung out again. It was so stupid and so unfamiliar and when he’d absentmindedly brushed a bit of hair out of Karkat’s face, he’d felt the words of a dead man spring to life in him. _‘That’s some stupid as fuck faggot shit. I won’t have that in my house.’_  
  
From then on, he’d felt like Bro was looking over his shoulder everywhere he went. Judging him on a scale from one to gay and everything he did was wrong. Creamer in his coffee, wrong. Sitting with his legs crossed, wrong. Letting Kanaya paint his nails, wrong. Refusing to strife anymore, wrong. Feeling his heart speed up in his chest whenever he heard Karkat’s voice, wrong, wrong, wrong. But, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. It felt like freedom and joy only to have it sink in his stomach like lead when he could feel an icy stare behind ironic shades.  
  

  * They didn’t talk about their first kiss. A room far away from everyone else and they played music and danced. Neither of them had ever danced before. Dave had never gone to any school dances, never wanted to. Dancing was just something he’d never really gave a shit about. And trolls also didn’t really care about dancing. If it didn’t involve violence, it wasn’t worth while. But, the music made them both want to move and they held an impromptu dance between the two of them. They jumped around, moving awkwardly to the beat. Dave tried to show off some human dance moves all of which looked so stupid and made Karkat double over with laughter which Dave counted as a victory.  
  
Maybe it was because the room was slightly dark and there was a window that let them see out into the void. Maybe it was because they were pumped full of adrenaline and giggly. Maybe it was because they were both hiding a deep dark secret of desire for one another. Maybe it was because they knew they could die one day soon. But, the music kept playing loud and safe and they were close. Closer then they’d been in weeks, avoiding one another, trying to play it like things were okay when it obviously was not. Electricity sparked where ever they brushed and they moved slowly to the music, eyes only for each other.  
  
They kissed chastely, hesitant, afraid. They didn’t want to ruin this. ‘This’ being everything between them. They didn’t talk about how it went on for the whole length of the song, how it steadily devolved into desperate grabbing, clutching onto one another, too hard, too much teeth, too much emotions. They didn’t talk about the words they whispered in each other’s ears, words of want and fear and confusion.  
  
When the song changed, it was like ice water and they jumped apart. They went their separate ways to freak out.  
  

  * Dave never talked about how it wasn’t like kissing a guy or a girl. It was like kissing his best friend, like kissing Karkat and somehow that made the whole difference.  
  

  * Karkat didn’t talk about how in that one kiss, he’d felt every quadrant inside him all at once and it was so overwhelming and he didn’t know what was wrong with him.  
  

  * They only avoided each other for a few days because they were both so needy and lonely and cared for each other too much. They let the knowledge of everything they hadn’t said fester between them.   
  
They landed in the new session and so much was left unsaid because of the sheer magnitude of everything. It didn’t feel like the right time or place. John was so naive and it still frustrated Karkat to no end. Dave didn’t talk about how he felt a stupid stab of jealously about the idea of Karkat still liking John, even if it was in a black quadrant way.   
  
When Roxy grilled his ass about kissing and being in love he felt like the whole world knew and his throat clenched up, a blush on his face. It was so gay because of course his mind went to Karkat, and that panic rose in his chest. Dave was an expert at suppressing his emotions, but he hadn’t had to in so long...it probably showed on his face. He’d never considered being in love. He never really known what that felt like. He’d seen it over and over again in all of Karkat’s romcoms.   
  
It had always seemed so fake to him. So, pathetic and sad how the characters fell all over each other, having terrible communication and it all ended up coming to a climax with some dramatic, sappy shit. They had been all about love, but he’d never put what he felt together with that knowledge. What he felt...seemed too sharp, too intense and gut wrenching. Too all consuming and...and...of course it was. Of fucking course it was love. It was love, it made him nauseous and it was so gay and so right. His entire body was frozen and on fire all at once.   
  
But, he didn’t say anything. How could he? There was no time to worry about this. No time for...his chest hurt.   
  
The battle plan was secured. They all had their missions,their death sentences. Dave couldn’t help it, the thought that Bro would be here...a kid version of Bro who may or may not be exactly like his own brother, his own deadly, too cool for anything brother. He asked about it for the hundredth time and Vriska was Vriska with her usual bitchy self and despite everything a warmth overtook him when Karkat jumped in to defend him. But, then his brother was there suddenly, alive and the age old wall of emotionless bullshit overtook him again.   
  
His goodbye to Karkat isn’t what it should be. It’s tight and not filled with enough meaning. He wants to say ‘ _I love you, ain't that fucking the craziest shit you ever heard?’,_ he wants to say that he’s sorry and he wants to kiss him again, to hold him. He wants to protect him. It’s stupid. Everything is stupid because Dave has too much on his mind, is unable to think, unable to express anything beyond this wall and Karkat stares back with hidden meaning, hugs him quickly and nods. He understands. Of course he does. He’s Karkat. 



 

* * *

  
They win. They win and it doesn’t really feel like it.  
  
It feels like another obstacle will show up to destroy them all again. Dave had to cut off his new found brother’s head. But, they killed the bad guys. So, that happened.  
  
Luckily, Dirk doesn’t seem to hold any hard feelings. He lets Dave hug him again and hugs back with that tiniest bit of surprise and awkwardness that shows he hasn’t hugged a lot of people. They all show up, looking bruised, bloody and they all have grins on their face. So far everyone has survived. There’s a dread pooling in his gut that Dave hasn’t been letting himself explore. Because he loves every single face, even the ones he doesn’t know all that well yet.  
  
But, none of them are his. When he sees a blur that is Kanaya rush past him to get to Rose (they’re hugging and talking both at once and its overall pretty embarrassing), he turns on his heel to look for...there. Karkat, looking a bit worse for wear but alive, sleeves rolled up, hair a mess. Dave rushes to him and pulls him into a tight hug. Karkat returns it without saying anything. They hold each other and Dave vows to himself to tell his friend everything eventually.  
  
They’re all walking to the big fancy door that means the end is close. And he let’s Karkat slip out from under his arm to stand next to his other best friend. The two of them share a look, from one leader to another. Dave wrenches his gaze away from the sight to take a mental note of who all is here. Everyone who he cares about. He still feels kind of broken, and he has no doubt that everyone here does too. It would take a long,long time before they all felt okay. And it would probably never be completely gone, this overhanging shadow that was dying a million times, fighting for a timeline that could only exist if everything was perfect, trying to understand a omniscient riddle made from nothing and everything that was Sburb. The game would never be gone. It was the reason for everything they were. But, they would do their best to make sure no one would ever have to play it again.  
  
He watches John and Karkat turn the doorknob together and together they all walk towards the door into a new universe. He holds Karkat’s hand the whole way.


End file.
